


A Hymn to Dionysus

by Bonnie131313



Series: I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times... [1]
Category: Dark City (1998), Mirrors (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Greece, Bacchanalian Feasts, Changelings, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Rare Pairings, Reincarnation, Sidhe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:18:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago in another life, they gather on the holy plain of Thebes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hymn to Dionysus

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Glamour & Reverie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983117) by [Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko). 
  * Inspired by [Glamour & Reverie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5983117) by [Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko). 



_“Go to the holy plain of Thebe so that you may get maenads …”_

Laertes laughs joyfully and passes the cup to Maeon who drains it. The blond satyr tosses the empty vessel to the nearest maenad and pulls a pair of crotalum out of the pouch hanging from his belt. Laertes sets the beat on his tympanum. Maeon clicks the crotalum together and stamps his cloven hooves in time.

Now Bendis is strumming his cithara while Ione and Anaxos’ voices rise together in a hymn to Dionysus. Other voices join in. Hands are clapping, feet are stomping, and suddenly they are all dancing.

Laertes knows he is drunk, drunk on the wine, on the music, the dance and the moonlight. He whirls through the crowd of maenads, nymphs and his fellow moirai. He trades wine-flavored kisses and caresses with dozens of his fellow revelers.

The dancing grows wilder. The touches turn to fondling. The kisses grow deeper. Clothing is being pulled off and tossed into the bushes.

A fair-haired godling in a short tunic of spider silk dances close and Laertes catches the beauty up in his arms. He glows softly in the dim light. His mouth opens eagerly to the redhead satyrs tongue. For a time they move together until Laertes draws him into the shadows at the edge of the clearing.

A mossy hollow makes a comfortable bed as they moved together in a dance even older than their god. The youth whimpers urgently as Laertes finds the little clay pot of fragrant oil in his belt pouch and prepares him.

“I need you.” He’d urges softly. “Please.”

It takes every bit of the satyrs remaining control to go slowly. This beauty deserves tenderness. The younger man is so tight, so hot, and so responsive to his every thrust.

Afterwards they curl together, sated and content.

“What’s your name my beautiful one?” Laertes asks, gently cuddling the moirai youth close. The boy smiles and reaches up to caress one of the satyr’s horns.

  
“I am called Danaus.”


End file.
